Fiction: Group 2
to a beautiful backyard. There were elegant flowers such as the Datura flower and chrysanthemum. He took
a sharp right and saw an old man sitting on a three-legged stool staring blankly at a crystal ball swirling with
mist. Minho talked to the man in that language that I can’t understand (Again? Seriously?) and that’s when
things got weird. Really weird.
The old man grabbed me by the arm with bone-breaking force and stared at me with his pale white eyes
and said in a bland but spine-chilling voice,
“You will be killed when you’re young,
Your entire reality lost until you come.
To survive this terrifying future gaze,
You must survive for the next 365 days”
The old man fell back and stumbled on his chair and then sat back down on his chair. I was chilled to the
bone by a mile. Minho was staring blankly at me while I was thinking rapidly. What the hell did that mean?
Unexpectedly, Minho was sobbing. I patted his back and said in a quivering voice, “What’s wrong?” He
stared at me with a steely look and sternly said, “You’re the one. You’re the timekeeper for Zero Hour.”
